The Suburbs
by Mula Sawala
Summary: The further adventures of Huey and Riley in the warm lap of Suburbia. Mostly drabbles, some AUs. They don't all take place in the same universe, so yeah. Some of them will be crossovers. Some of them contain incest and other potentially offensive things. And also the word 'nigger' in all its varied spelling permutations. But you already knew that. Peace.
1. Chapter 1

**Smiling**

Huey never smiles. At least, no one in Woodcrest has ever claimed to see it. The only one who remembers what it looks like is Riley, and Riley don't snitch.

When Huey smirks at him after a beatdown, or when him actually listening to Huey brings a half-smile to his older brother's face, Riley doesn't say a word. No one knows that half the stupid shit he does is to get Huey to smile (kidnapping Oprah would have been fun if Huey could pull his head out of his ass for more than five seconds), and it's going to stay that way, capische nigga?

**Parenting**

Over the years, Riley must have asked Granddad about his and Huey's parents over a dozen times. Each time he got a different answer.

"You don't have parents; I picked you and Huey from a grape tree."

"They were kidnapped by the CIA."

"They went on a hot air balloon that got away."

"They're on a super-secret mission to Mars."

Riley wasn't a nerd like Huey, but he wasn't stupid neither. He could tell when someone was bullshitting him, and his Granddad was a big old bag of fertilizer. Eventually, he figured that it didn't really matter, knaamean? Not knowing gave him some angst, would make his raps more _real_ when he finally got around to writing them.

**Birthdays**

Huey was not unaware of the fact that Riley wanted to know what had happened to their parents. Using his impressive google-fu, Huey had found out what had happened long ago. It wasn't anything special.

Eight years ago, a woman had died due to complications during childbirth. It could have been prevented with a C-section, but hospitals tended to not do expensive procedures for the uninsured. Her son survived. Her husband sued the hospital, but delaying tactics drew the case out for years.

Almost three years after the death of his wife, the man was awarded a large cash settlement out of court to prevent further bad publicity. The man hanged himself soon after.

It was interesting enough to have earned a small piece in the local paper because it was their five year old son who called the authorities to take the body away a full day after the fact. When the paramedics turned their backs for a minute, the son and his just turned three years old brother were gone, with a note written neatly in crayon claiming they were going to their grandfather. It _should_ have been an amber alert level shit storm, but the kids were black, so it was a small article in the local paper instead.

It wasn't anything special. It also wasn't something Huey would ever tell Riley.

**Moving**

Huey would never admit it, but he's glad that Granddad moved them out to Woodcrest, theories on taming white men with cheese aside. He's… mellower out here. Being out here gave him time to put his thoughts in order. He retired, and concentrated his efforts on his family. On how they were going to survive the end when it came.

Being out here was okay. He was farther from the struggle, but that was acceptable because Riley was also farther from legit gangbangers (Ed and Rummy were the closest thing to, out here), and closer to where Huey could keep an eye on him. Granddad's friends were tolerable (He likes Mr. Dubois, at least), and best of all, the lower population density guaranteed that there were fewer dumbasses around him.

**Listening**

Riley listens to Huey _just enough_. Which is really more than anyone else could say. Huey is not sure if he should thank Riley or the other way around.

Considering that bulletproof vest saved Riley's life, he's leaning towards the latter.

**Happiness**

No one would call Huey a happy child. He had watched that documentary about Obama after it came out, and though he stands by his "Eh.", he resented being called depressing. He wasn't sad. He was…melancholy. Brooding. He rather valued his broodiness. It used to be a personality trait one was allowed to have. Now everybody wanted you to smile and say things like "Great!".

Man, _fuck_ that noise. Right now he was being _cheerful_. If he wasn't, he would have already blown everything up and killed himself. He knew what was coming, just around the corner. The darkest days were yet to come. And if he wasn't such a goddamned _optimist_, he would be insane by now.

As it was, the only thing keeping him in North America was Riley and Granddad. That and the fact that he couldn't get a ride out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Glass **(Free-cest AU)

Theirs is a love that lives in a glass house with locked doors. A love whose name they did not speak. People knew, they _knew_, but they didn't talk about it. The boys weren't good at keeping it secret. Riley had too much pride, and Huey was never ashamed. Granddad seemed to be the only one who didn't know. It was better that way.

**First Time **(Freecest AU)

"I want to touch you."

As far as non sequitours went, that was enough to raise both of Huey's perpetually furrowed eyebrows. Huey was in the middle of getting ready for bed, clad only in his pyjama bottoms, but the statement was enough to stop him dead in his tracks. Riley wasn't done.

"I want to touch you, but I don't know how."

Riley's hands were clenched at his sides, and Huey could tell how much he wanted to look away by how determinedly he kept eye contact. Riley was breathing hard, like he just ran a marathon, and he was sweating like a sinner in church.

Truthfully, Huey's not surprised. He's very observant, and Riley had never been subtle. There had been looks, intentional and unnecessary nearness, just _signs_ that Riley telegraphed pretty well, and Huey was almost glad that Riley had finally made his decision.

Huey placed the still folded shirt he had in his hands on the table and took a step towards his brother. He watched Riley take a step back. Did he think Huey was going to hit him for this? Judging by the flinch when Huey brought a hand up to Riley's cheek, it seemed so. If this had been an actual surprise, Huey would have been, for perhaps the first time in his life, honestly speechless. But he wasn't; he was prepared.

"I'm going to bed now," He said slowly. And softly.

"I'm going to turn off the lights and lie down. Anything you do, whatever happens then, in the dark," Huey paused, and swallowed. When did his throat get so dry?

"Everything stays between us. Okay? "

Huey didn't really expect a response. At least, not right away. He turned away and did what he said he would. Soon the only light in the room was the harsh yellow glare of the streetlamp outside, blending with the softer, understated light from the moon.

Huey settled under his covers, breathing deliberately even. Huey was half hoping that Riley would lie down on his own bed. Then they could pretend this never happened. Their lives would be so much simpler. Huey crushed the desolation that rose up in his chest at the notion with logic and reason and sensibleness. But almost before he could complete the thought, the bed dipped beside him, and there was an exhalation at near his ear, part sigh and part groan.

"Okay."

Riley ran his lips, his ridiculously expressive and surprisingly soft lips, along Huey's jaw and down his neck. A rough hand squeezed Huey's shoulder. That same hand travelled down to his bare chest, drawing a sharp gasp from Huey before moseying down a toned stomach. Riley paused before tentatively cupping Huey's already hard cock through his pants.

Huey was a deep breath away from turning and pressing his lips against his little brother's, but it was almost as if Riley knew. He moved away, crossing the space between their beds in a half stumble before falling onto his own bed. As Riley shuffled around to get under the covers, Huey tried to decide whether his heart or his cock ached more.

"'Night, Huey." The words travelled across the still air.

Huey clenched his teeth, and wanted to slap his brother upside the head for doing things halfway. Riley stopped messing with his covers and barely waited for them to settle before shoving a hand down his sleeping shorts. Soon the unmistakable sound of Riley jacking off filled the room. Between the lewd noises coming from his brother and his own aching cock, Huey felt his cheeks heat up.

Snaking his own hand under his pyjama bottoms, Huey let out a breath as he squeezed hard and stroked. He pinched his nipple with his free hand, rubbing it to soothe away the sting. Obscene sounds continued to fill the room and Huey shook, stroking faster. He hear rustling coming from the other bed and looked over before he could think about it. Riley appeared to have gotten too hot under his blanket, and had kicked his covers as well as his shorts down to his feet.

Huey raked his eyes over his little brother's body, noting the light sheen of sweat, gaze lingering at Riley's groin, where his hand continued to move. When Huey finally made it to Riley's face, Riley was staring right at him. Suddenly Huey was too warm as well. He sat up and folded his covers down to the foot of his bed. He shucked off his pants and laid back down on his bed. Huey wasn't used to being this exposed in front of another person.

Riley seemed unperturbed, humming appreciatively at Huey's exposed skin. Huey put his hands back to where they were and soon the two of them were both stroking hard and fast. Huey remembered the feeling of that rough hand on his body, those lips on his neck, the breath on his ear as Riley whispered.

"I'm coming."

Huey came hard enough to see spots, his stomach clenching and his hips bucking. Over on the other bed, he heard Riley come as well. Huey stayed that way for a while, shaking, cum on his hand, his stomach, there was even a little bit on his chest. He waited for his breath to even out before he got up and put on his bathrobe to get a moist washcloth from the bathroom.

Huey splashed some water on his face and cleaned himself up before returning to his room. To their room. The room he shared with his brother. With his little brother.

Huey decided to do his thinking tomorrow.

Huey returned with the washcloth. He sat down beside a sleeping Riley and wiped the cum off his hand, his cock, his torso. Huey leaned down to place a light kiss on Riley's forehead before tossing the cloth into his dirty laundry hamper and making his way to his own bed.

This wasn't what Huey thought this night would be. But it was a beginning. The opening of a door. The crossing of a threshold that they couldn't take back. In the darkness of the room, Huey smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

**Pretty**

Jazmine wishes her hair was more like Cindy's, the color of spun gold, and soft as silk. C-mer begs to differ. Jaz's hair is so pretty, like a big fluffy cloud, but more with presence. Cindy wishes she could crawl inside it, snug as a bug in a rug.

**Stone Wall**

Huey did not understand how his brother fought. Huey operated with the idea that more sweat shed during training meant less blood bled during battle. Riley was quick and clever, but didn't capitalize on his skills. It wasn't logical. Without training, Riley wouldn't get better, and he would keep going down. But Huey has never seen anyone get back up the same way his brother did, and maybe that was enough.

**Rose**

A 6 year old Huey looked down at the paper in his hand. Riley's preschool teacher had given it to him, with clear instructions that it be given to Granddad so he could discipline Riley. Beside him clutching his hand was a 3 year old Riley, keeping careful track of a rock he was kicking home.

"Riley," Huey began, tugging on his little brother's hand to get his attention.

"Hmm?" Riley stopped walking and looked up at his big brother.

"Hey, why did you write _'Niggur'_ on your paper? You making fun of your teacher? You should know, you spelled it wrong. "

Huey could understand, honestly. Both the insult and the spelling error. All of Huey's _own_ teachers were _idiots_. Riley looked at Huey like _he_ was stupid, which was a pretty sophisticated look for a three year old, so Huey was proud enough to let it slide.

"Thas my _name_, Huey." Riley pointed to a scribble near the edge of the page. It looked like it was supposed to be a face. "I drawed where I ain't s'pposed to, s'why I gots in trouble."

Huey searched his brother's face, looking for signs of deceit. But Riley's face was only mildly resentful, which Huey knew was directed at Riley's teacher, not him.

"Riley. Your name is Riley." Huey stated, and started walking again. Riley shook his head.

"Nigga." Riley pouted. Huey could suddenly understand Mr. Jamal's mistake.

"Your name isn't Nigga, Riley."

"Granddad calls me Nigga. You don' remember 'cause yo' stupid."

"Your name isn't Nigga. Granddad calls me Nigga too, remember?"

Huey cast a sidelong glance at his brother. The rock was forgotten as Riley pondered this new development.

"But Granddad calls me Nigga. How's I s'pposed to 'member my name if Granddad says my name is Nigga?"

"He's not saying your name is Nigga, Riley. Nigga is a bastardization of a derogatory term for an African American person that some argue has been reappropriated by the Black Community, or at least a part of it, for reverse discourse and empowerment purposes, and perhaps to create an exclusionary environment that would allow the community to develop its own identity with no input from the white supremacist power structure in accordance to anti-assimilationist ideals."

At Riley's blank look, Huey could tell that Riley got exactly none of that. He sighed. Huey stopped and knelt in front of Riley, placing his hands on Riley's shoulder for emphasis, and to make sure Riley was paying attention.

"You just listen to me, okay? I'm always going to call you Riley, so you can remember that's your name. Okay?"

Riley nodded, satisfied. Huey stuck out a fist with its little finger extended, to solidify the promise the way he'd seen other kids Riley's age do, and it was a sign of Huey's sincerity that he was ready to participate in something so saccharine, but Riley spat on his own hand and held it out to Huey instead. Huey looked at it for a minute before he got up and started walking again, Riley falling into step beside him, hand still up.

"I'm not touching that."

"What?! Huey, you promised!"

"I promised to call you Riley, not to subject myself to your bodily fluids."

"How I know you go'n' keep yo' promise of our spits ain't touching?"

Huey sighed and spat.

"Eeew! YOU SPIT ON ME!"

"I spat on your hand. You said—"

"You s'pposed to spit on yo' _own_ hand! This is gross!"

Huey rolled his eyes and used Riley's test paper to scrape off as much saliva from Riley's hand as he could. He crumpled the paper and threw it away as Riley wiped the rest of it off on his pants. Huey deemed that acceptable and took Riley's hand so they could cross the street.

"Hey, where's my rock?"

**Bang**

The morning after the first time someone breaks into their house in Chicago, Granddad buys a shotgun. It's a testament to how shaken up Huey was that he didn't object. He had been up reading when he heard the window rattling in the middle of the night, loud enough to penetrate Granddad's snores coming from the next room. He hurriedly turned off the light and crawled into bed with Riley.

Voices started to carry up the stairs. Huey assumed a minimum of two intruders, possibly armed. He considered them against an unarmed old man and one kid (because there was no way Riley was leaving this room.).

Loathe as he was to allow injustice to happen in the next room, the course of action that offered the highest chance of survival was to keep silent. He wanted to burst into the next room, fists swinging. But instead he held his brother tight and waited for the voices to leave. It felt like hours.

In the morning, their living room was stripped. No TV, no sofa, nothing. Even the refrigerator, apparently small enough to carry, was gone. Granddad stomped around and cursed and generally had a heart attack, and Riley was loudly annoyed that he didn't wake up in time to defend his turf, so now he was missing his Saturday morning cartoons. Huey kept quiet, his antipathy for his powerlessness eating away at him privately.

So Granddad buys his shotgun, and Huey takes Riley with him when he picks out realistic enough pellet guns for the two of them. It's not much, but it's something.

They leave inner city Chicago and move to Woodcrest after the fourth time they get robbed. By this time, Huey is used to it, and is sorry to go.


End file.
